


To me, she was (my always coming home)

by Sevi007



Series: The Devil's own luck [6]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Dorks in Love, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, New Relationship, Romance, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:41:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25783828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sevi007/pseuds/Sevi007
Summary: (Direct Sequel to „Let me tell you (it’s no secret)” )The first time Sparda has to leave for an extended period of time after they finally confessed their love for each other does not go quite as smoothly as expected. The distance is grating on them both; but luckily, there is means to keep in touch, anyway.
Relationships: Eva/Sparda (Devil May Cry)
Series: The Devil's own luck [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1223174
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30





	To me, she was (my always coming home)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ahsokaisawesome](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Ahsokaisawesome).



> I was in some serious need of FLUFF after a few hard weeks at work, and what better way to get my dosis than with Eva x Sparda? 
> 
> So much fun writing this one. I hope you guys have HALF as much fun reading it as I had writing, that would be already out of this world! =D

_To me, she was,_

_those final steps,_

_The turn around the last bend_

_The house,_

_with a light on,_

_and a fire lit,_

_and a faint laugh in the distance on the warm wing_

_That was she._

_She was my always coming home_

**_\- Atticus_ **

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ D ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The mission calling him overseas was an easy one. Easy enough, in fact, that Sparda expected to be back within a day when he packed his things and left.

By now, it had been four days since he had left home – left _her –_ and there was not an end in sight yet. One call for help followed the next. When one client was satisfied, another troubled soul approached him, and the dance started anew.

It was always the same. Hands being wrung, eyes pleading, voices quivering. _Please. Please, can you_ …

And always, always _We heard about you._

He couldn’t remember when he had last hated the name he had made for himself this much.

Over the days, it started to wear even _him_ down. The work was a tedious one, with few breaks in between. It should not have mattered; in the long years of his life and his work, he had learned to deal with both. Yet for whatever reason, it was getting to him more than usual this time. He felt restless, annoyed; with every passing second he longed more to be back home. He was getting irritated from it all, the tight control he kept on his temper slipping.

He noticed that he had reached a dangerous point when he took his anger out on the human hunters working with him. They had incurred his wrath by not listening to his warnings, and approaching a demon nest without the necessary care. Saving the fools from themselves had used up the last patience he had had. The speech he had given them afterwards had been sharper and louder than it would have been otherwise. 

It had been the first streaks of real fears in their eyes which had snapped him out of it, made him realize what he was doing. He had sent them away without further ado, tired and weary, and stayed behind, wondering what was _wrong_ with him.

Now, back in the room which had been provided for him, he still hadn’t found the answer. Discarding his sullied coat and boats, weapons already put away, he stopped in the middle of the room to drag his hands down his face, sighing deeply as he did. The restless feeling sat right under his skin, like a particularly nasty itch he couldn’t get rid of. There would be no sleep this night, either, if this kept going.

With a deep breath Sparda straightened again, casting his gaze around the room for something to distract him, at least for a little while. He had not bothered to turn the light on, but to his eyes, the room was bright as day in the last sunlight of the day. There was little that could catch and hold his interest; the small bed at the wall would be left unused this night as well, and apart from that, there was only a desk with a chair left.

Another sigh. Peace. He only wanted some peace _._

 _Like when_ …

His mind wandered, drawing up memories of the days before his departure. The sun on his face, soft grass under his back. Fingers carding through his hair gently enough to make him melt under it. For one moment, he could nearly hear the laughter, could taste her smile again, just as sweet as he had always known it would be. Sparkling eyes looking down at him with such tenderness it had cut deeper into his chest than any blade ever could have.

_“I love you.”_

The memory receded and in its wake reality seemed even paler and emptier than before. His exhaustion surged, threatening to overwhelm him, but he grit his teeth, growling at himself. _No._ This was ridiculous; he would take not one moment more of this – this _longing_.

Stubborn resolve spurred him into action before he had even fully thought through what he wanted to do. In two strides he was on the other side of the small room, angling the phone set on the desk in his direction and dialing a number so familiar to him he would have known it in his sleep.

The phone was already at his ear and he was listening intently to the ringing when it registered what he was about to do.

 _Only a little while,_ he decided, fingertips of his free hand rubbing together mindlessly while it rang, and rang, and rang. _Just…_

Finally the call connected. A quiet voice, slurred with sleep, greeted him with a questioning, “Mhhhello?”

Realization shot through him sharp and unpleasant, instantly smothering the delight bubbling up at the sound of her voice. _The time_. He had forgotten about the time difference between here and there. Where she was, it must have been around late night to early morning right now. Likely, she had been in deep slumber already, and he had only disturbed her.

He nearly ended the call right then and there, cursing himself in every language he knew for disturbing her over absolutely nothing-…

“Hello? Who is there?”

He stopped mid-motion of putting the phone back down. But then, what was done was done. She was already awake now, and simply ending the call would only worry her.

And, if he was honest with himself, the sound of her voice was a siren call he didn’t _want_ to resist.

With a deep breath he lifted the phone back to his ear, answering softly, “Eva.”

There was a beat of silence, before Eva’s voice came again, surprised and clearer than a second ago. “Sparda?”

“Yes.”

“It _is_ you!” The sleep was gone from her voice instantly. There was shuffling on the line, then she sounded clearer, closer, words a warm murmur straight into his ear. “How are you? Are you alright?”

Even with the phone changing her voice and miles and miles between them, the sheer delight in her words was so clear, he could all but _see_ her smile, so very bright and warm. Just imagining it was a balm to his frayed nerves and he exhaled slowly, tucking the phone under his chin so it was closer, as if he could keep _her_ closer like that, as well. “I am well. I am sorry for disturbing your sleep.”

“Don’t be!” There was no hesitation on her side, and he could almost _see_ her shake her head for good measure, sending golden locks flying. “I didn’t expect it, but I’m _so_ happy to hear from you.”

Of course she hadn’t expected it; it was the middle of the night, after all. “I apologize,” he said, cringing, and added before she could wave it off again, “I forgot about the time, and I…”

He trailed off, blinking slowly as it hit him why, exactly, he had reached for the phone in the first place.

_I wanted to hear you._

The sheer ferocity of the thought startled even himself. He had left for missions before, but it had never been like this, before… _before_.

Before she told him she loved him, too.

Her voice pulled him from his thoughts and he chided himself for nearly missing her words.

“You, forgetting something?” Tease was clear in her voice, and she laughed quietly, making him smile. She had always managed to make him smile when laughing at him, instead of wanting to defend his pride. “That probably happens once every century.”

“Twice, last time I checked,” he rumbled back, just to hear her laugh more, the sound like sunlight and home to him. Some of the tension he had been holding ever since leaving home left him, unfurling at the sound of her mirth. With a quiet sigh he let himself sink into the chair behind the desk, slowly relaxing against the backrest. Looking up at the ceiling rather into the unfamiliar room around himself, he could almost imagine he was back home, only a short distance away from her, instead of half a world away. “I really am sorry, Eva.”

“Well, _I’m_ really not,” she answered without missing a beat, voice gentle. “It’s good to hear you.”

He hummed noncommittally. It was unimaginable that it should be as good as it was hearing her, but he would indulge her.

“The last few days have been…well. It’s a little strange, you know.”

“What is?”

“I should be used to you going away for work. It’s not the first time, after all.” It did not sound like a reproach when she said it, simply a matter of fact. “But this time, it’s… really bad.”

Hearing her say the last words quietly, hesitantly, let him breathe easier, paradox as that sounded. She understood. Somehow, miraculously, she really understood. “I feel exactly the same.”

“You do?”

“Yes. I do not really know why, but…” running a hand through his hair, mussing it, he had to confess that he _really_ did not have words for what was different, this time. With a sigh, he gave up, too tired for it. “I do not know why.”

Silence fell between them, stretching as seconds ticked by. It did not bother him; he could have listened to her breathing for the rest of the night and been entirely happy with it.

“Maybe…” Eva began after a while, musing.

“Mh?” Sitting a little straighter to pay better attention, Sparda waited, curious to her what she thought.

“Maybe it’s because it’s still so new.” Another beat, then she laughed quietly, a little hushed as if… was she embarrassed? He did not want her to be. “You know. I only just got to tell you that I love you for the first time, and now I had to wait _days_ before I could tell you again? Awful. Maybe that’s why it feels so long, this time.”

The moment she said it, Sparda knew she was right. The words _felt_ right, fitting exactly to describe the restlessness he had been feeling ever since leaving – leaving _her_. Just hearing that there was an explanation for it already made him feel as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, and he sighed, this time in relief. “Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes. That is it exactly,” a smile tugged at his lips, and he didn’t even try to keep the pride and affection out of his voice when he said, “You’re brilliant.”

Her laughter was a startled, uninhibited thing, and he just knew he had surprised her. He was grinning into the dark even as she chided him kindly, “Don’t flatter me so much. Especially if you’re so far away.”

The gentle rebuttal that she deserved his every praise had been on the tip of his tongue, but at the last part, it went forgotten. Confused, he arched an eyebrow at nothing. “What does that have to do with the distance between us?”

Silence followed, so suddenly and completely he actually feared the connection had cut off for whatever reason. He lifted the phone away from his ear to look at it before trying again. “Eva?”

“Because you’re being extremely sweet,” her voice sounded strangely muffled, as if she was covering her face with one hand. “And it really makes me want to kiss you again, and I _can’t_ right now.”

Sparda really couldn’t stop the quick intake of breath right then, not even while conscious of the fact that she would hear. Licking his suddenly dry lips, he could almost imagine the taste of her again, sweet and rich and purely _Eva_. His own voice nearly startled him with how strained it was when he finally managed to answer. “A shame.”

The sound she made was a strange mixture of hiccupped laughter and pained sigh. “Tell me again why you can’t be here right now?”

“I have _no_ idea,” and he said it with absolute sincerity, because right then, he really, truly didn’t know. Everything in him screamed to call upon his katana and open a portal to her side immediately, partly so she could make good on her words, and partly… partly just to hold her, again. For a wild moment he thought _I could do that, I could be there and back again in no time…_

But at the same second the thought crossed his mind, he knew he wouldn’t come back here again. The second he got to hold her in his arms, he wouldn’t want to let go again. Not so soon. Maybe not ever. He would actually forego his duties for the first time in millennia and…

As much as he wished to, he _could_ _not_. 

“Sparda?” Eva’s voice sounded soft, maybe a bit worried when she called him gently for his thoughts. “You know I’m mostly teasing, right? I know you have work to do…”

“I know.”

“I’m not going to ask you to ignore it for me.”

“I would. If you asked me to.”

The quiet intake of breath was a small, fragile thing. He knew instinctively that she had understood the magnitude of what he had confessed right then, and what it said about his feelings for her.

“I won’t,” Eva said gently, carefully, after what seemed like a small eternity. At his questioning hum, she clarified in a firmer voice, “I won’t, because I know you, and I know you would not forgive yourself for neglecting your duty. So I will not ask that of you.”

A smile tugged, first hesitant, then quickly blooming, at the corner of his mouth. She meant it, he knew. If anyone had ever really understood why he had to do what he did, it was her.

“So!” She sounded exceptionally cheerful as she broke the silence, making his smile turn soft. “Tell me about your trip.”

“Tedious,” he said without missing a beat, only to hear her laugh heartily.

“Why do you always _say_ that!”

“There is nothing particularly exciting about this kind of work.”

“You can’t have been working all the time!” A pause as she considered something, then, more firmly, “You _didn’t_ , did you?”

“Well…”

“Sparda!” He could almost see her; hands on her hips, eyes sparking and hair wild as she chided him the way one only could when caring about someone from the bottom of their heart. He didn’t know if to smile or duck his head guiltily at the mental image. “You really need to take better care of yourself. Have you been sleeping, at least?”

Gaze darting to the bed in the corner, still as neatly made and unused as the day he arrived here, Sparda pulled a face, glad she could not see him. “I have been… resting. When work allowed it.”

The following pause nearly made him squirm in his seat. To his relief, the sigh she released after a few beats was undoubtedly fond, crackling over the line or not. “What am I going to do with you, you rogue.”

Breathing out in relief, Sparda allowed himself to relax back against the chair. “Whatever it is, I do look forward to it.”

“Oh shush,” she clearly tried to sound firm still, but her amused snort cracked the façade. “Then look forward to a lot of rest as soon as your back. I’m not letting you get away without a vacation after this.”

He was not, per se, a friend of resting or vacations, but he could be convinced. On certain conditions. “Will you be joining me?”

“Of course,” she laughed, all of her firmness gone. “How else am I supposed to make sure you really do rest? And. I get to spend time with you. As if I would say no to that!”

“Then I actually _do_ look forward to it,” he told her, sincerely, even when that only made her laugh more.

“I would hope so! Now. Will you tell me about your tedious, _tedious_ days?”

“You are not taking that seriously, are you,” he pretended to huff at her lack of pity for him, but was smiling as he did, already casting his mind around for things she would enjoy hearing.

And so, they talked; about everything and nothing. None of it was of real importance, or particularly deep. Small, mundane things that they had done or experienced while apart. She recalled her meeting with friends, at a little café they just _had_ to visit together because he would love it. He answered with anecdotes of the other hunters’ shenanigans, deliberately choosing the things he knew would make her giggle or snort with amusement.

He did not tell her how much the distance between them had grated on his nerves; neither did she. And yet it was implied – no, it was so very _palpable_ in the way they enjoyed just hearing the other’s voice; in the little moments in between when they took a beat to the others breathing.

Time seemed unimportant in the little bubble they had created. Sparda only became aware again how long they had really been talking when Eva’s yawned more and more often and her wittiness slowed down considerably once sleep crept up on her.

“I should let you go,” he observed finally, when he couldn’t ignore it any longer. Loathe as he was to end this, it was the sensible thing to do.

“Not…,” another yawn interrupted her. “… mph. Not yet.”

“Eva.”

“I can sleep tomorrow.”

“Did you not lecture me over my lack of sleep a little while ago?”

He was fairly sure the – frankly adorable – disgruntled sound he heard had been intended as inaudible by her. “Turning my own words against me is not playing fair. Fine. Let’s compromise.”

Rustling sounded, and the cadence of Eva’s voice changed; likely the result of her adjusting the grip on the phone. ”One second.”

The volume of her voice rose and dropped in short intervals. She was walking as she spoke, Sparda realized. “What are you suggesting?”

“It’s simple, really.” Quiet humor tinged her words. A click sounded; a door opening and closing again. More rustling followed, cloth sliding over cloth, until finally, she breathed out a satisfied _Phew_ and her voice returned stronger and closer. “I’m taking you to bed with me.”

The image her words painted - of golden curls fanned out over pillows, and a warm soft body cuddling under softer sheets, _against his_ \- was so unexpected and vivid, Sparda nearly swallowed his tongue as it slammed into him like a freight train, punching all air out of him. He had to take a steadying breath against the sheer _longing_ that came with it, once, twice, deep and measured, before he trusted himself to speak again. And when he did, his voice had lowered to a rumble without his say-so. “Awful of you to tease me so, love.”

“Huh?” confusion filtered through earpiece. Then the realization: “Oh!”

A second later, Eva dissolved into peels of laughter, fizzling and bright like finest champagne, and warming him just the same way. “Cheeky! Wine and dine me first, you!”

“I did. Often, if you recall.”

“ _Completely_ different context.”

“Oh?” Mischief sparked in him. Sparda was smirking as he consciously let his voice drop even more into a purr, caressing the words as much as murmuring them. “I will have to make sure we are doing this in the _right_ context next time.”

The tiny noise Eva made a beat later was clearly choked off, so breathy that anyone with lesser hearing than his wouldn’t even have caught it. It made a shiver run down his spine as well as laughter bubble in his throat. Two very different emotions, and only one he could indulge in right then. The chuckle was over his lips before he could stop it.

“Oh, no fair,” her voice was breathy, amusement and something very familiar to the heat in his veins echoing in it. “If I’m not allowed to tease, then you can’t do it, either.”

“You started it,” he reminded her mildly, warm and amused, then before she could protest, “And not doing it on purpose does not make it any better, Eva.”

The little _Hmph!_ she made was very telling in its own right. Got her, he thought smugly, huffing a breath of laughter.

“Fine,” the _smartass_ she didn’t say was so clearly implied, it nearly set him off again. Despite that, her voice was warm and fond. More rustling sounded on her end of the line – pillows being pushed around and blankets being adjusted, he supposed. He left her to it, more than happy to simply listen to her settling down and get comfortable.

“Sparda,” Eva’s voice came back, making him perk up again. She sounded a little muffled now, as if already lying down.

The thought of her, curled up under the heaps of blankets she preferred, ready to fall asleep any second and yet still refusing to let go of the phone, made something catch sweetly in his chest. “Hmm?”

“Tell me.” More shuffling, then, quieter, “If you _were_ here right now, with me. What would you do?”

Eyes slamming shut on a small groan, Sparda shook his head with a grumble. “What did we say about _teasing_ only moments ago _…”_

 _“_ Not teasing.” She sounded so adamant yet so soft, it sobered him up instantly and listen intently to her next words. “Not… I just…I miss you.”

Another catch in his chest, much sharper this time. Sparda breathed in and out deeply around the feeling, fighting down the urge to do something rash. Such as opening that portal, after all.

Imagining his answer as vividly as possible helped distract him from it; it was easy and so, so sweet, pulling up the things he had once fantasized about in quiet moments and now, finally, being able to share them with her. He made sure to keep his voice appropriately quiet and sincere when he spoke, knowing she would listen as attentively as he had, “I would hold you, right now.”

A tiny noise from her; a little surprised, and very, very appreciative. It was enough to spur him to talk more, to close his eyes and recall the things he had longed for. “I would simply lay down with you and hold you. Stroke your hair.”

“…Have I ever told you,” Eva said, words slightly slurred around the edges from the sleep creeping up on her, “that I like being held by you the most?”

“You did not.” He let that sink in, quietly amazed. “Why…?” 

“You’re so warm,” she interrupted him gently, as if sensing what was puzzling him. “And there’s so much care in the way you hold me. It makes me feel safe like nothing else.”

Words eluded him. It was a miracle he was still able to draw breath, with how full his chest felt. Of all the things she could have said…

Nobody had ever said something like that to him.

 _Never stop surprising me_ , he thought, fiercely and fondly, while he shook his head to himself.

There was only quiet, steady breathing from Eva’s side when he shook himself from his stupor and focused on the call once more. He waited one beat, two, but it remained silent. Perhaps she had fallen asleep despite her determination not to. 

“Eva?” He spoke quietly, not wanting to wake her _again_. But she had asked, and he had not been finished yet. “If I could, I would kiss you goodnight now.”

“Mhh,” Eva muttered, surprising him by still being awake. Her voice was soft and mellow with sleep, but apart from that, she sounded clear. “Yes please You’re very good at that.”

A wave of affection tinged with amusement flooded him, and Sparda laughed quietly, shaking his head. “At kissing you goodnight? How would you know? I have not done that yet, if I recall.”

“Kissing,” she clarified, not even seeming to notice his tease. She _really_ must have been tired. “You’re good at that. I had-…” A yawn interrupted her words, followed by the whisper of cloth over cloth, before, “… had wondered, if you were.”

 _Oh_. A mixture of pleasure and wonder swamped him, making him breathe out heavily. “Did you, now?”

“Sure,” her voice rose a little, strength returning in her surprise. “Didn’t _you_ wonder?”

He hesitated only a beat before answering honestly, like she deserved. “I did. Often.”

“Mhm, see.”

His fingertips wandered along the edge of the desk, restlessly, finding nothing to distract himself with. He tried to hold the question back, he really did, but curiosity was too strong. “Did I live up to them? Your wonderings.”

She didn’t laugh at him, not even in tease, bless her heart. “Outperformed all of them.”

Perhaps the pride he felt over that was ridiculous yet he let himself indulge in it, anyway. “I could say the same.”

“Oh,” it was more of a sleepy exhalation than a laugh, really, the sound she made. “I’m glad.”

Not so ridiculous after all, maybe. Sparda allowed himself a crooked smile at her obvious and very familiar relief.

“Once,” Eva shuffled again, yawning, “once you get home. Kiss me goodnight, yes?” 

All amusement left him instantly and he breathed in deeply against the longing squeezing his heart and straining his voice. “I will.”

“Yes?”

“Yes. Every night, if you wish me to.”

“Mmmmmmh. That’s nice.”

By now, it sounded as if she was murmuring the words in her sleep more than anything else. Huffing a fond little sigh, Sparda shook his head. “Sleep, Eva. I have kept you long enough.”

Eva uttered a vaguely protesting sound but did not complain outright. “Mh. See you soon?”

“Soon,” he promised, her as much as himself. “Very soon.”

There was no answer anymore. He could only hope she had heard before sleep had claimed her finally.

Sparda allowed himself a moment – or two, or three – simply listening to her peaceful breathing, the little shuffling of her moving about in her sleep. Finally, he made himself break away from it and whispered a final goodbye before ending the call.

The moment the phone hit the receiver, he was back on his feet and striding across the room for his discarded boots and cloths. He had been right about one thing – there would be no sleep this night, either. Albeit for a very different reason than he had initially thought.

With a thought and a flick of his wrist, his sword appeared in his hand. He was already half out the door when he swung it over his shoulder, energy already crackling along the edges of it.

There was still work to do. The faster he was done with it, the sooner he would be able to go home.

And woe to those who dared to try and delay him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ D ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He arrived at her doorsteps the following afternoon; tired to the bone, and haphazardly patting himself down and fixing his hair so he at least would not look it.

Perhaps he should have given himself time to rest before coming here, he pondered while reaching for the doorbell, yet he had not been able to bring himself to stay away any longer.

Almost immediately after the bell rang, he was able to pick out the distant sound of feet hurrying closer, the pattern of heels clicking on steps. Raking one hand through his hair once more he rocked back on his heels, a smile already blooming on his face.

He didn’t have to wait long; only moments later, the door all but flew open and Eva appeared, cheeks flushed and hair in disarray from obviously running. Her hopeful gaze immediately found his and her face brightened with wonder and joy as she reached for him. “Sparda! You’re home-…!”

Something cracked in his chest, relief flooding him with a vengeance. He really did not mean to interrupt her, but the feeling was too strong; he pushed over the doorsteps without thinking it through, crowding her back enough he could kick the door shut behind them and sweep her into his arms all in one go. Her ensuing shriek followed by laughter seemed more necessary to him than drawing breath and he soaked it up greedily while letting his head drop to the crook of her neck, breathing in the smell he had quickly come to label as _home –_ strawberries and sunshine and Eva, Eva, _Eva_. 

“Eva,” he murmured in lieu of the greeting he had meant to say. He could only hope it would encompass everything he felt too overwhelmed to say right then.

Her arms came around him readily, one hand settling between his shoulder blades, the other carding gently through his hair and making him purr quietly. Her nudging made him look up, and instantly she was there, pressing her forehead against his, blue meeting green.

“Welcome home,” Eva whispered, voice full and trembling with the same emotions raging in his chest.

The fact that she _understood_ made his shoulders relax and he smiled back, nuzzling against her gently. “It’s good to be home.”

They simply stayed like that for a while, swaying slightly on the spot. Finally, she pushed softly at his shoulders – not enough to dislodge him, but enough to make her intentions clear. Obediently, he lowered her back down with care.

“Come,” as soon as her feet met the floor again, she reached for his hands and interlinked their fingers tightly while she started walking backwards slowly. Pulling him with her, a willing follower to her whims. And despite that, she pretended to tug at his hands, as if he wasn’t fast enough for her liking. “Come, come.”

“Where are we going?” He was smiling himself as he let her have her fun. In truth, he did not particularly care where they went, as long as she didn’t let go and was right there with him.

“To bed.” Eva laughed quietly; likely catching the way his eyes light up. Dimples appeared as she smiled ever wider, murmuring like a secret between them: “Come to bed with me. Hold me, like you wanted to.”

The sheer possibility of that made Sparda take a shuddering breath and stop walking without meaning to. The fact that he _could do that_ , now, was _allowed_ and _invited_ to… it was a lot.

Eva stopped as well, patiently watching him as he let that idea sink in, becoming acquainted with this new reality.

“… Will there be goodnight kisses, as well?” He asked softly, once he trusted his voice again. It still shook slightly, yet at least did not break.

She laughed, tinkling and bright; lifted his hands so she could kiss his knuckles, gently, before declaring with mirth in her eyes, “I hope so. You do owe me a few, after all.”

It made sense, he supposed. Taking into account the nights he had been gone for work… But. There was something in her gaze that made him pause, and reconsider.

Eva’s lips curled at the edges, a little self-deprecating, and suddenly he remembered.

 _I wondered_ , she had said. _I wondered if you would be._

Their gazes caught, a whole silent conversation passing between them in the few heartbeats it took for eyes to widen, a chin to dip in a slight nod.

_Oh. That long?_

_Yes._

_Me, too._

Amazed and wondering, he tugged at her hands, not able to stay away from her any longer. Eva was laughing and went easily as he nearly hauled her forward, into his chest, letting go of her hands only to wrap his arms around her tightly, his forehead dropping to hers. “As many as you want,” he promised, rumbling the words into the narrow space between them. “I will give you all of them.”

“Oh,” she laughed, breathed, in answer. Her arms came up to hold him, too, nose nudging gently against his as her eyes sparkled up at him. “All of them? We will be here for a while, in that case.”

“ _Good_ ,” Sparda purred in answer, smiling widely when she laughed heartily at that. The unrestrained sound of it was a thing of beauty, the look in her eyes when she blinked up at him, still chuckling, like a sweet pain taken right to the heart.

_Oh, but you are-_

Carefully, so very carefully, he raised one hand to cup her cheek, letting his thumb graze along the dimple of her smile as he had wanted to so many, many times. “I love you, Eva.”

Her reaction to the simple words was more beautiful than anything he could have imagined, and he immediately decided to say the three words as often as possible in their future. She seemed to _glow_ with happiness, eyes sparkling and smile so wide it must have hurt. And perhaps the best thing about it all was the way she immediately reached for him again, hands coming to frame his face with infinite tenderness. “I love you, too.”

He must have smiled wider and more delighted in answer than he had guessed, if her little intake of breath and her muttered “Oh, come _here_ , silly” was any indication. He went willingly as she rocked onto her tiptoes to reach him easily, chuckling all the while.

“Goodnight kisses already?” He muttered, delighted.

A tiny, amused noise from her; clearly distracted as she leaned in. “Welcome home kisses. _Completely_ different.”

He hummed in understanding, but wasn’t really focused on it. Bridging the gap and finally, finally getting to kiss her again was _so_ much more important.

The last clear thought left in his head once their lips met and an overwhelming sense of peace and rightness overtook him was simple and true: 

Coming home had never felt quite this good.

**Author's Note:**

> * Quote and title taken from the poem "My always coming home" by Atticus


End file.
